Live Like We're Dying
by MikaelaLovesMusic
Summary: Marissa and Billy are helping Sammy stop a thief. Even if that means they have to pop tires. Billy tries to get the serious out of Marissa. A mini-story from my other story, Inevitable, but you don't have to read it to read this. Oneshot. Marissa/Billy.


**Hey guys! This is a side story of one of my other Sammy Keyes stories, Inevitable. It's ok if you didn't read it, because I'll just explain what's going on quickly. Basically, Sammy's trying to stop a criminal and she asked Marissa and Billy to help out. They know the criminal's going to make a runaway in a car, but they don't know which one. **

**For anyone who's already read "Inevitable", just pretend they're not dating yet. For the sake of the story.**

**I based it off Kris Allen's song, "Live Like We're Dying". **

**Also, I sadly do not own Sammy Keyes or any of these characters. The genius Wendelin Van Draanen does.**

**If you're wondering, it's written in Marissa's POV.**

"_Billy! _Thank God you're here. I need your help," I begged.

"What is it, Marissa-o?" He grinned. Ugh. Did he _always _need to be joking? This was a serious matter. Sammy needed us!

"Ok, well I just remembered that the criminal is probably going to get away in the car. Like the last time? So I need help finding the car. And then we'll pop the tires or something." I sighed. He was crossing his eyes and waggling his tongue at me. "Seriously, Billy! Focus!"

His face went stiff into a military position. He shoved his hands to his sides and stood erect. "Ok, lieutenant! What's the plan?"

I felt a smile creep on my face. He saw this and flopped out of his precise military form. "I just told you!" I exclaimed, exasperated. I threw my hands up. "We need to find the car and pop the tires."

He grinned. The sneaky grin. Ever since I knew him in 2nd grade, I knew the sneaky grin _always _led to something crazy and stupid. "Follow me." Before I could protest, he grabbed my arm and dragged me back to school. **(a/n: They're a few blocks away from school.)**

"Relax, McKenze. You just need to relax. Cherish the moment, you know, duuude?" He rasped in his surfer voice. I couldn't help but grin again. How could you not? Billy was just so... Billy.

"Ok." I smiled. "What are we doing?" I relaxed, finally.

And then I panicked.

Billy was dragging me into the janitor's closet! The janitor's closet! Now, you'd think by now that I'd be used to this, you know, being best friends with Sammy and all. Sammy's dragged me into some _pretty _bad places. But, this was Billy. He swears he's not high off the putrid orange juice they serve in the lunch room, but sometimes I see him inhaling it when he thinks nobody's watching. Yeah. Definitely high. The orange juice was really getting to his head today. That was it.

I squirmed under his grip. "Billy, let go of me! What are you doing? We need to help Sammy!" But it was too late. He already slammed the door shut, with the both of us locked inside.

"Ok, look for sharp and pointy things! Like my mother's stiletto heel!" He pointed to a gash on his leg.

I finally came to a conclusion. "Yeah, you're high off the orange juice," I muttered under my breath.

"Did you say something?" He stopped fumbling throught the janitor's stuff and turned to look at me.

"I didn't say anything! I swear! Please don't force me to inhale orange juice!" I raised my hands up, backing away from him.

"What do you mean?... ohh, that. At lunch. I can explain..."

"Yeah?" I raised my eyebrows and folded my arms.

"Why are you so tense? Come on, be happy! Hakuna Matata! There's only 86, 400 seconds in a day. You gotta love each one of them!" He slapped my arm playfully.

"How'd you figure that out so fast? You know, the 86, 400 seconds thing? Are you suddenly a super-genius or something?"

"Nah, I just know Kris Allen. 'We only got 86,400 seconds in a day to turn it all around or to throw it all away! We gotta tell them that we love them while we got the chance to say gotta livvvvve like we're dyiiiiiiiiing!'" he belted. His voice was terrible. So terrible, I couldn't help but giggle. He slapped my arm again. "There you go, McKenze. Now only 3 layers of serious until we get to the crazy deep inside!" I laughed again.

Then, something snapped me back to reality. Maybe it was the fact that we were _in the janitor's closet_! "Nuh-uh. We've got stuff to do. Let's get your stiletto stuff and get outta here."

"Aw, you're no fun, Marissa," he pouted. But we managed to find a pocket knife. Acutally, Billy kind of _stumbled _upon it. He was pretending to be a helicopter and then accidently bashed his head in the wall. The wall opened up surprisingly easy and an ancient pocketknife lay inside. He handed me a ragged piece of metal he found in the janitor's garbage bin and we walked out.

"How come I don't get the pocket knife?" I whined. I wondered if the whining tactic I used on my parents to stay up later would work on Billy.

"Finders, keepers!" He grinned, but the grin slowly faded away when he saw I was still frowning. "Fine," he huffed and put the pocket knife in my hand. I smiled sweetly and handed him the metal piece.

Billy doesn't stay mad for long. I don't even think he can hold being mad for more than 10 seconds. "I shall serenade the lady now. 'Yeah, we gotta start looking at the hands of the time we've been given, if this is all we got and we gotta start thinking, if every second counts on a clock that's ticking, gotta liiiiivve like we're dying!'" he crooned, belting out more of "Live Like we're Dying".

"I think you just killed all the cats from here to Kansas," I teased, putting my hands over his mouth.

"Toungue's coming out in five, four, three, two-"

"Ah! Stop! Gross, Billy!" I yelped, pulling my hand away. I did _not _want Billy spit all over my hands.

"What, do you think I have cooties?"

"Probably. I sure can smell them from here." I crinkled my nose in fake disgust.

"There went another layer of serious! Keep this up, Marissa, you'll be just as crazy as me by the end of the day."

I shuddered. "Let's hope not."

We finally got to the parking lot. I wanted to scream. The parking lot was huge! How were we ever going to find the runaway car? "Ok, so we know that the car is a convertible, and now it's the time for thinking. Do you remember what color Sammy said the car was? The make? Maybe even the license plate?" I looked over at Billy. He had found the nearest convertible, and was popping the tires. "Billy! BILLY! We don't even know if that's the right car! What are you _doing_?"

"Staa-bing," he sang. Then he shoved the end of the metal piece into the tire.

"BILLY! We can't just do that! This is someone's property! We could get in trouble," I shrieked.

"Well, it's their fault for getting such cheap tires. Look at this! It's like paper!" He stabbed another tire. He was actually right. They popped easily.

"Still, we can't-"

"-Look, McKenze. We don't know which car it is. We don't want the criminal to get away. So, this is what we have to do."

I sighed. "I give up. Ok, so you want us to really pop the tires of _every _convertible from the school to Sammy?" That was a few blocks. Not too bad. How many convertibles could there be?

"That's the plan." He grinned. "Come on, McKenze, lighten up? Do you want me to sing again? Every second counts on a clock that's tick-"

"-Ok! That's enough singing for now. Let's go pop some tires!" I held up my pocketknife and smiled mischieviously.

"There goes one more layer of serious, McKenze! Only one more to go!" He waggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes. "Let's just get this over with."

So we went along, popping tires. This all went smoothly until we found ones with people actually in the cars.

"You distract, I pop," Billy whispered.

"What? No!" I protested, but Billy was already sneaking up towards the rear of the car. I had no choice.

"Hello, sir. I seem to be lost. Er, which way is the school?" I asked nervously. The man was creepy. He had yellow teeth and messy hair. He looked like a college student. And his car really stank! I fought the urge to cover my nose.

"...don't you go there?" he asked suspiciously.

"Um, no. I'm a foreign exchange student from... Ghana," I blurted, thinking about the World Cup. My heart was beating like crazy. I snuck a glance at Billy who was laughing silently on the pavement as he popped more tires.

The man looked up and down my pale skin. "Uh huh."

"What, you don't think I could live there? Huh? Look buddy, just tell me were the school is," I said, gaining confidence. The man narrowed his red eyes. My blood went cold. "Please?" I squeaked.

"I didn't mean any offense... it's just... Why are we even talking about this? The school's over there." He pointed in the direction of the school. "You happy now?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for your time, sir," I said, remembering my manners. Billy was gone. I walked away and found him behind another convertible, popping more tires.

"Nice job," he snickered.

"Hey! I was panicking! Next time, _you're _the distraction." I glared.

"Alright, alright!" He went back to popping tires.

A loose strand of hair was in my face. I reached to pull it away, but my hands were covered with the black from the last grimy tire I just popped. I blew the hair out of my face. I whipped my head to the left. But the strand did not go out of my face.

I was now aware of Billy, who was smiling at the whole spectacle. "Stop, Marissa. Do you know how funny you look?"

"I am aware of that." I frowned.

Resolution sprung onto his face. He reached over and tucked the strand under my ear, his fingers grazing my cheek. "Come on, Marissa. Don't frown. Live Like You're Dying," he whispered softly.

"Every second counts on a clock that's ticking," my crazy mouth rasped back.

"Yeah," he whispered. His eyes went bright.

Then he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine.

I couldn't help but think _This is Billy! Why are you kissing Billy?_ But another part of me loved it. Loved the way his hand was still on my cheek. Loved tender way his lips met mine.

Billy was crazy. There was no doubt about that. That was the part of him that I liked best. He was his own person. He didn't care what other people thought. He lived like he was dying.

Then he pulled away, smiling. "There went another layer of serious. Just by kissing me. You're officially crazy now." He closed his eyes, still smiling.

I finally realized that I was smiling, too. We were behind a car, on the pavement. So much for romantic setting. "Come on Billy. This pocketknife is going idle."

His eyes whipped open and he returned to being classic Billy again. "Yeaaaahhhhhhh!" He screamed, running out onto the street.

I shrugged and ran after him, screaming. I was officially crazy now, anyway.

_We only got 86,400 seconds in a day to_  
_Turn it all around or to throw it all away_  
_We gotta tell them that we love them_  
_While we got the chance to say_  
_Gotta live like we're dying..._


End file.
